Waters of My Life
by EpicInTheLibrary
Summary: Carlos inadvertently finds a different way to cure Logan of his Hollywood fever. Logan/Carlos


The sound was soothing to him. Calming, relaxing- drug-like, in a way. It sedated him, pushed him down beneath the stresses and strains of the world, gave him a sort of escape. It was a sound he relished, a sound he could go on hearing beyond the end of time. A heartbeat, a song of life.

Well, the creature to which the heartbeat belonged evidently died just now, because Logan's bongos were snatched from his grasp and tossed over the shoulder of the offender, who still allowed his head to be wrapped up in the world's fruitless tension, who even thought himself to be above it all, rather than underneath it, where it was _so_ much better.

"Hey, man, why you gotta go and do a thing like that?" Logan asked, though his tone wasn't even close to demanding. Just put off, because his life force had just sort of been killed. Carlos set a hand to his hip and stared down at Logan, lowering his chin an inch or two to do so.

"Dude? Your drums are annoying. Stop hitting on _them_ and start hitting on some_one_ more _important._" Logan, mildly offended, adjusted his headband and shifted in his cross-legged position.

"They're called bongos, dude. A cousin to the drum. The same way we're all cousins to each other. Show a little respect and act like it, you know what I'm saying?"

"No. Actually, I don't." The look on his face was one of contempt, of disapproval, maybe even disgust. Why did he have to be like that? He should calm down, let everything melt away, have a collected state of being. Right now he was an abstract work of art, and that was bad. He wanted to be organized and set in place, like a checkerboard. Precise.

"Look, man," Logan started, deciding to help bring Carlos out of his constant state of worry. "I think you're thinking _waaay_ too much. You need to just relax and cool it. Stop trying to control the waters of life, and just let the current take you where it takes you. Calm down every once in a while; it can be good for you. Life is so much better if you just relax..."

"No, I think you've got it wrong," Carlos sneered, stepping closer and crouching down so he was almost at Logan's level. He removed his sunglasses and stared through Logan's into his eyes, and a sudden unexpected chill ran down Logan's spine as they locked, as Carlos saw right _into_ him. Into his soul, into his being. It was deep, and intense. Almost too much for him. He needed to back off and draw back into his world of lifesong and heartbeat. His own heartbeat was increasing in pace, drumming anxiously against the front of his ribcage, alarmed. Carlos smirked. "I think _you_ need to relax and enjoy the waters of _my _life."

Logan swallowed nervously, throat suddenly dry and sticky. He was getting sucked back up into the troubles of the world, everything he was striving to escape from, to deny, and he needed to wind down, redraw, and, most importantly, get _away_ from Carlos. On the subject of the boy, he was slowly leaning closer, breaking into Logan's air of personal space, something he rather treasured and definitely didn't want being invaded. He tried to lean back, away, but immediately he ran into something behind him and was forced very solidly to a stop. He turned a fraction to see what it was, identifying a bed. His bed. Something that was supposed to promote rest and relaxation, not imprisonment and betrayal. Glancing back at Carlos, he saw that the other was now leaning over him, much too close for comfort. Logan swallowed again, able to feel Carlos' breath on his nose.

"What are you doing?" he asked, frail and weak against the draining force of power and forwardness being abused by the other. Carlos smirked again, continuing to draw closer, a shark closing in on its prey, a hand slipping up to rest on the side of the bed just next to Logan's head.

"Taking what should have been mine a long time ago."

His lips were on Logan's, the ultimate, complete epitome of personal space violation. A sound escaped Logan, a lot like a whine, and he tried again to back away, again having no results of benefit to him. Carlos was still pressing closer, attaching his body to Logan's, each new touch something like an electrical shock to him. A bad electrical shock. Like leeches latching onto his skin, sucking everything he knew and loved out of him, replacing them with empty, fresh panic, something he didn't know how to deal with. His lifestyle had nothing to do with spontaneous, impulsive emotions; always controlled, easy to contain feelings, with positive vibes. The feelings Carlos was giving him did not have positive vibes, though that could only be said to describe the emotional vibes, because on a physical level it was very positive. But that didn't matter. That wasn't the point. The point was that Carlos was assaulting him and he was not the right person to be assaulting. This was close to terrifying, and Logan did not do terror well.

Carlos was climbing on top of him, getting further under his skin, infiltrating him, and Logan made that whining noise again, slightly distraught, still trying in vain to back away, to escape. All it did was give Carlos more control, forcing him back against the side of the bed, pressing into him. Logan's breath was getting farther away, harder to grasp, shorter in his lungs. The fact that he was _trapped_ was seriously dawning on him, getting into his mind, making itself known. Before, it was just a vague idea that Carlos was too close and doing all the wrong things and ruining his valued personal space and that it should all stop now and that he kind of needed to do something about it, but now it was a strong, desperate prompting, strong and frantic. It was scaring Logan, and now this new overload of unfamiliar emotions was sending him over the edge. His breathing pattern started stuttering and falling out of place, being robbed of its smooth control, and Logan found himself losing his precious composure, his beloved order, soothing relaxed demeanor. Was he overreacting? He couldn't tell by this point. Clouds of dust flew up and swirled menacingly around him as his whole world fell apart, crashing in on him, crushing him with its unbearable weight.

Carlos separated himself from the panicking boy, and Logan was panting, grasping for that last bit of sanity he could see slowly fading away, dissipating into the air. His eyes were drawn to Carlos' dark gaze, glaring and sharp, and oh so powerful. Logan swallowed hard and tried to speak normally.

"Carlos, wh-what do you-"

"You," Carlos started, lifting his chin to stare down at Logan, "are a mere minnow. This right here proves it."

He took both of Logan's wrists in his hands, slamming them up against the bed on either side of his shoulders. His face was close again, lips curling up into a devious, powerful smirk, holding all the arrogance he had gained through deception and lies. Logan felt small and powerless under him, clenching his fingers and straining against the grasp holding him in place. He whined again, fear evolving rapidly.

"C-Carlos, you're hurting me," he close to whimpered, wanting the other _off_ of him, away from him, and for everything to stay that way forever and ever. Carlos chuckled lightly, the expelled breath shattering across Logan's face as he leaned even closer, their lips an inch from brushing together.

"Whatcha gonna do about it?" he breathed, inching in until he had his lips again. His grip tightened and Logan's fingernails dug red moons into his palms, trying to counter the crushing pain. This was something entirely new, terrifying, absolutely different from everything he'd ever know before, before even his own new perspective on the world. He felt as if this were the devil's version of an epiphany, a wicked way of showing him everything as it was. He'd taken a wrong turn, and now he was paying _the _price. Something he should have realized earlier but was too caught up in to see clearly. It was too late now to change that.

Carlos kissed him harshly, uncaring, selfishly. His lips crushed into Logan's with bruising force, letting their teeth knock together so hard it sent resounding pangs resonating up all the way through his skull. Into his brain, where everything that was upside down was reviewing and reversing, flipping around and facing the way it was always meant to. It was constant explosion, each new one something he could barely face, something alarming and totally new to him. It was scary, the overload, and so much that he couldn't handle it, so much he thought he would break soon if it didn't stop. It didn't look like it was going to be stopping any time soon. He was so torn, so confused. He wished Carlos would give him a minute so he could figure it all out, but Carlos was not a mind reader and therefore did not give Logan a minute. Instead he forced Logan's legs out of their crossed position with his knees and took the space for himself, kneeling in between Logan's legs and consequently succeeding in getting himself that much closer. If Logan was panicking before, he was in hysterics now. All it was for him was no, stop, no, please stop, go away, stop it, get away, go away, disappear, no, stop, stop, _stop_. He was going insane, he thought in between it all. He was losing it, and wasn't Carlos supposed to be his best friend?

The burning contact was once again broken, but only from the lips, because Carlos was grinding forward against Logan, using him to create friction he so evidently desired, and Logan almost choked at the shock. This was just too much. A part of him broke, a vital part that assisted in holding him together. His breath shattered into the paper thin air before him, minuscule shards of glass separating in slow motion, crystalized bits with sunlight's reflection shining proudly, mocking him in his inescapable capture.

"Carlos, stop," he gasped, barely able to get the two simple words out. Carlos didn't listen, thrusting his body up against Logan's again, continuing to do so for an agonizing period of time. The feeling was so horribly divided, a fine line separating emotion and sensation, a fine line called deception. A viral insect that had wormed its way into Carlos' brain, one that did not plan on dying soon. It wanted power, and that's what it was getting, by taking advantage of Logan, whether he wanted it or not. At this point he really didn't know which it was.

Carlos exhaled forcefully over Logan's heated cheeks, letting his voice escape into the release just slightly, continuing the pattern of repeated forward movement, sparking something unfound deep within Logan's body. It spread throughout him, washing through to his fingertips and toes, bubbling up his throat and over his tongue until he was forced to open his mouth and let it out. He moaned, and Carlos smirked knowingly, maliciously. Grinding down on him again, Carlos ducked forward and assaulted Logan's throat, putting more weight on the grasp pinning Logan's wrists to the bed. He bit the pale skin and sucked harshly, a sensation Logan didn't even know what to call. It was painful, but felt scarily good in an exhilarating way. He squeezed his eyes shut, as if that would make it all disappear, and threw his head back with his mouth frozen open, jaw locked in a silent ghostly scream. His chest rose and fell rapidly, stuttering, his breathing uncontrolled and spastic. He didn't know how to deal with this, with all this confusion. He could have shut down, he could have tried to relax, but Carlos was there, drugging him further, breaking him further. And no, however hard he tried, he couldn't ignore the fact that it felt so _good._

It was incredible, the way Carlos' mouth fixed over his throat, how his lips latched down so unbreakably, how they tried to draw the skin in, mark them as theirs forever. Logan found himself trying to break from Carlos' grasp, not to free himself from this horrifying prison, but to reach forward and touch Carlos, feel him to the extent of anything possible. He wanted to bring him closer, to break the barrier of the laws of physics that prevented him from climbing inside of him and experiencing the waters of his life. He _wanted_ Carlos, and that scared him.

"C...Carlos... P-please..." He strained weakly against his restrictions again, wanting them gone. Carlos lifted his head and his lips curled up into that arrogant smirk, withholding nothing but sympathy, anything that might benefit Logan at this time. It was rather frightening, that expression on Carlos' face; it made him wonder how he came to be this way: so malicious, so arrogant, so apathetic. This was nothing like he remembered. So what happened? It was hard to figure out with the hurricane of his world still raging everywhere in his path, his line of sight, his thought process.

Slowly, Carlos slid his hands down, fingers following the form of his arm, tracing the path along their way. Logan shuddered at the feeling, at how unfamiliar it was to him. He felt like he was being unlocked, freed with every inch of skin Carlos' hands slid down across. It was agonizingly slow, and by the time he reached his elbows Logan was ready to explode. He continued at the same pace up his upper arms, making his way to his shoulders, and it was so torturous is wasn't fair. Logan tried to reach out, to touch him, but Carlos was quick to respond by grinding slowly but harshly down into him, and he immediately went slack underneath him, choking out a weary moan, a powerless sound of weakness. All he could do was stare up at Carlos, once again frozen into his icy gaze, and feel his hands continue down his body, inducing shivers that penetrated his core and sent goosebumps rising all across his body. Carlos' palms brushed down his waist, now moving at a quicker pace, eager to feel the heated skin beneath the infuriatingly existent clothing. They slipped up underneath his shirt, exploring, and Logan's whole body shuddered, his head rolling back against the bed, his back arching up into the touch ever so slightly, but not exactly, as if reluctant to reveal desire that might get him into trouble. His mind was so clouded by now that he couldn't tell at all anymore. All the could think now was that it did feel kind of good and he wanted more of it to counter everything negative he was feeling at the moment.

Carlos chuckled at his reactions, murmuring, "You like that, Logan? Am I doing well? Does it feel good?" He pinched at a nipple, sending a mild spasm coursing through Logan's muscles, making him inhale sharply and whimper slightly. "Yeah, you like that? You want more? Would you beg for it, Logie? What would you do for more?"

There was a hand on his chest, massaging, and a second on his lower stomach, and Logan was breathing hard, almost panting. Yes, he liked it. Yes, it felt good. Yes, he wanted more. Yes, he would beg for it. _Anything._

"Please," he whimpered, staring into Carlos' eyes, weak and wanting nothing more than this. Carlos grinned sadistically, removing both hands, at which Logan whined, and stole Logan's sunglasses away with one, tossing them carelessly to the side. That hand rejoined with the other to swiftly undo the buttons on his shirt, moving down the cloth like they were born to do so. Logan lay in anticipation, the suspense eating away at his sanity. Did he even have any left? It was so... hard to... tell...

The next thing he knew, Carlos was slinging Logan's shirt to the side, abandoned like his glasses, hands on his waist, and he was moving back, pulling Logan with him, and he soon found himself lying on the floor with Carlos sitting atop him, straddling his waist, the obvious bulge in the front of his pants straining against Logan's. Carlos ground forcefully down into him, eliciting a constricted moan, Logan's breathing getting heavier. He felt his wrists being taken and dragged up over his head, something cold and metallic brushing against his fingers. He watched helplessly as Carlos removed his oh so precious silk scarf, bringing it up to Logan's wrists and quickly wrapping it around them, making quick work of effectively tying him to one of the legs of the bed. He realized it only when it was done, and tugged at the new restrains fruitlessly. Carlos sat back and admired his work, a wicked grin splitting across his lips as Logan's brow furrowed in distress. Now he couldn't _touch_ him. He wanted his hands in those places, those places that were impossible to reach now. He let out a straining whine, pulling again against the bonds, bewildered at how the knot could possibly be so tight.

"Don't stretch it out, it costs a fortune," Carlos sniffed, still smiling at Logan's complete helplessness. Logan was distressed, completely under Carlos' control and watching painfully as the other slowly removed his jacket and button-down shirt, revealing delicious-looking skin planed over a smooth chest that Logan was just aching to touch. But he couldn't, wrists held back tightly but Carlos' silk scarf. It was unbearable, it was torture. And now Carlos was crawling back to toy with the zipper on Logan's pants.

"Oh Logan," he mused, drawing a finger lightly over the bulge there, making him whine softly. "Flattery will get you nowhere."

"Nnh- s-s- please, just- p-please..." he whimpered, unable to take much more. Carlos regarded him with arrogance, obviously enjoying his current position. Logan lay defenseless beneath him, unable to do much more. Carlos' eyebrow quirked and he pulled the zipper of Logan's jeans down, promptly disposing of the clothing article as well as the underwear beneath, very suddenly exposing Logan in a way he never would have thought possible in a situation such as this. The unexpected sensation sent a whine spilling forth, soft and uncomfortable. He kept his gaze focused on the ceiling, unable to watch Carlos except from the bottom portion of his vision, the corner of his eye. It was degradation, unfamiliar and unsettling to him. He didn't like the limitation, but that all changed when he felt fingers running swiftly up and down his hard shaft. He shut his eyes, tilting his head back and letting his jaw roll open, hips twitching up into the blissful contact, stemming the sensation. It felt incredible, and he never wanted it to stop.

"Carlos..." he groaned softly, eyelids fluttering slightly. He heard a short chuckle but didn't really focus on it, paying more attention to the slow, rhythmic feel of a palm moving up and down his flesh, squeezing and deftly massaging, gradually increasing speed. He found himself arching up repeatedly, breath coming in short pants accompanied by moans and whines, and there was only a second more for him to experience it all before the hand was gone and all he could feel were throbbing pulses that made it crystal clear to him that he needed it back. His heart pounded in his chest and his eyes fluttered open, chin tilting down to look at Carlos, who had his own cock out and was stroking it fully, eyes shut, exhaling into the already dirtied air.

"Carlos," he whined, bucking his hips up into empty nothingness, deprived of anything solid, anything that would work. Carlos slanted an eye open and smirked through the focused expression he was wearing, licking his lips and ceasing to stroke for a moment.

"You want me, Logan?" he murmured, cracking the other eye open, the darkened irises shining gleefully. "Want me to fuck you into the floor? Wanna be my minnow?"

"Yes!" Logan gasped, arching once again fruitlessly into the empty air. "God, yes, please..."

Carlos' lips twisted in another smirk and he kneeled closer to Logan, ghosting a hand up his thigh. "Tell me what you want."

Logan let out a burst of air, desperate for something, anything to satisfy his burning need. "I want you, I _need_ you. I want you inside me, I want you to fuck me, so hard I won't be able to walk. Please, Carlos, oh my god, I need you!"

Carlos' head tilted back as he stroked himself harshly, quickly jerking his hand up and down, eyebrows furrowed as his other hand rubbed tantalizingly at the inside of Logan's thigh. Whining desperately, Logan thrust his hips up again, trying to get to his hand, trying to get it back to where it really needed to be. This wasn't about escape anymore, far beyond that. It wasn't desire, it wasn't anything concerning any emotion at all. It was pure want, lust, and need. God, it was torture, and it needed to end right _now._

"Fuck!" he cried, voice breaking loudly. "Carlos, fuck me!"

Carlos stopped and dropped over Logan, hovering over him with his hands on either side of his head, piercing eyes drilling right through Logan's. "Do you know," he hissed almost menacingly, "how long I've waited to hear you say that?" Logan whimpered beneath him, trapped, wanting nothing more than the boy positioned above him. Carlos was breathing just as hard as Logan as he straightened up, throwing Logan's legs over his shoulders and hefting him up. "Do you know how long I've needed to hear that?" His eyes were still shining, the glare a little less malicious than Logan thought it should have been. Carlos positioned himself at Logan's entrance, still staring him down, leaning back down to brush his lips against Logan's jaw in a way that made shivers trail down his body. "You're mine," he breathed, pushing himself in and connecting their lips feverishly.

Logan gasped at the sudden stretching pain that burst immediately through him, opening his mouth wide and simultaneously allowing Carlos more access. Their tongues clashed, Carlos quickly dominating as he pushed in further, getting himself in all the way while Logan whined at the unavoidable pain that seemed to never end, never relent. Carlos was exhaling into his mouth, pressing forward into his face, pressing them together, hard. His hands found the sides of Logan's head, smoothly molding to fit the shape, and Logan noticed the small movements they made, the slight caresses and soft strokes, the gentle movements that didn't seem to fit within the big picture at all. They didn't make sense, they weren't in agreement with everything else. Was he just imagining it, trying to compensate for the pain and stress he was being put through? Carlos had stopped moving, holding himself in all the way, and the moment seemed to freeze right there, halting for just that few, maybe hundred seconds while Carlos kissed him, lips moving with more feeling than fervor, more passion than lust. Then it all fell back to Earth and it was just the feeling again, the sensation as Carlos pulled back out and slammed in again.

It hurt. It was nothing like he'd expected to feel, it wasn't bliss or euphoria or pleasure. It was pain, he wanted it gone. Whining, he jerked his hips a little, trying to get at least something out of it. His motion interrupted Carlos' building rhythm, and the stutter created a small miracle. Carlos hit something inside of Logan that made his back arch into the air, their chests pressing together as something loud and wanting was released from his throat. Carlos licked it up, setting himself right back into rhythm, making sure to hit that spot on every thrust. Logan's breath broke up and flung itself from his lungs, leaving him gasping. He snapped his head to the side, trying to get it back, breaking the kiss. Carlos slid his hands down to Logan's waist, mouthing instead at the end of his jaw where it melded into his neck. The side of his face pressed into Logan's cheek, both surfaces heated.

As Carlos' thrusting grew more erratic, Logan's need grew more frantic. He squeezed his eyes shut and ground back down onto Carlos, focusing intently on that incredible feeling, over and over again, steering him closer with each thrust, each hit to that hidden spot deep inside him that shattered the air around him each time it was triggered. He was unconsciously straining at the ties constricted around his wrists, trying to get to Carlos, still trying to touch him the way he wanted to so badly. It was almost worse than the panic he was feeling before, the torture, and he wanted to be free, but suddenly it didn't matter anymore when Carlos' hand once again found his member and began stroking it fully and quickly, everything Logan needed to feel right now. He threw his head back against the floor and moaned loudly, letting it fade off to a needy whine. He continued moving his hips down in time with the rhythm Carlos had going, perpetually trying to get closer to that explosion of bliss, that exhilarating rush that he could never get anywhere else. He was so close, and it became the world to him to get there. There was nothing else on his mind, only that release he'd known about forever but never really felt the need to experience. Now he knew what the big deal was, and he needed it. Almost there, just a little closer, just-

"C-_Carlos!_" he cried as it blew up into the next level, past the ends of the universe, into something so big he could barely hold onto himself, barely comprehend it. He came hard, Carlos' hand working him through it, adding to it all, continuing to hit that place inside of him before shuddering and following suit. Logan felt himself coming down from his orgasmic high, everything falling back into place, reality crashing back down onto him. Carlos pulled out and shortly after Logan felt fingers working at the scarf tying him to the bed's leg. He just lied there, eyes still closed, breathing hard and trying to clear his head. The tightness around his wrists loosened and came free, and he pulled them down, rolling them around to get used to his new freedom. He heard the sound of clothes rustling and finally opened his eyes to see Carlos standing across the room where their clothes had landed, getting dressed again, back facing him. He felt the urgent need to say something, anything, but his throat stuck and his mouth was dry, and he couldn't find the right words at all. Nothing seemed to work, and then Carlos was tossing his clothes back to him, glancing swiftly back before sniffing and exiting the room, shutting the door behind him for Logan to stare at in his absence.

It was wrong. There was something wrong. It wasn't what had just happened, it wasn't the contempt and apathy he'd displayed. It was the fact that he'd just left, without saying a word, everything in between. Those last words he'd spoken before he'd entered, that kiss he'd given with the subtle caresses and soft touches. The hidden passion, the disguised emotion. He just couldn't figure it out, what it was supposed to mean. Nothing made sense, it was just too confusing.

Sighing in defeat, Logan rested his head back against the floor again, bringing his hands up and covering his face. He immediately felt cold moisture on his hand and drew back in surprise, staring at his hand and identifying the liquid on it, wiping the remaining drop off of his left cheek.

It was a tear.

It wasn't his.

* * *

_Yyyeeeaaahhhhhh this is all I could come up with. I started this last Sunday, as in not yesterday, and I seriously needed to get it done before it got added to the list of stuff I need to finish that will probably never get finished. That list is long enough, I don't need more on it. _

_This probably has a lot of typos, because I didn't edit it, but I wanted to get it up today because I'm grounded tomorrow. Ahaha, long story. Just know that I'm grounded every other day. So there will be no updates those days. Info, man._

_Based on the newest episode, because that episode was incredible. It almost beat the first episode, but then I watched the first episode again and decided that NOTHING beats the first episode. So it's my second favorite. _

_And I know Carlos never actually took his clothes off, maybe I'll fix that someday. Just not today. Becase I will be logged off in nine minutes, lol. Stupid parental controls. I hate this. _

_It was originally gonna be just porn, because we all know how great that would be, but then I decided it should have at least a little bit of background if only to build up off of. So basically this is it: Carlos has liked Logan for a really long time but has never had the courage to do anything about it. Then the Jennifers come along with their piranha minnow talk and he finally decides he derserves Logan. And the rest is in the story. I hope you like it? I do. Angst is always good for me._

_Please review, I worked way too long on this to not get any feedback lol._


End file.
